


Clichés

by ArtificialFlavorz



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, Slow Burn, plot divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5041477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtificialFlavorz/pseuds/ArtificialFlavorz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.<br/>(She never thought that the view from the top would give her vertigo.)</p>
<p>((AU where Artemis moves into the cave full-time and everything changes))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (part one: Earth) Curse the Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is something I've been dabbling with for a while now & finally decided is a viable fic for the long-term. i'm gonna try to update this about every week or so-- one can assume tuesdays or wednesdays but not necessarily count on it-- and get the plot moving fairly soon. as far as placement in the plot goes, one can assume this happens shortly after "Insecurity" (season one episode twenty three) and the plot more or less diverges from there. comments, kudos, and suggestions are welcome! i hope you enjoy it!!  
>  xo

“Better to light a candle than curse the darkness”

 

She wakes up in a cold sweat. Her sheets are tangled around her legs, and the silvery moonlight, shining through the crack between the curtain and the window, reflects off her skin. She can see the marks where the folds of her sheets have pressed themselves into her flesh in the pale light.  
She pulls her knees up to her chin and wraps her arms around her legs, breathing deeply. She doesn’t have to think to know what dream has awakened her. It’s the same dream that’s been doing so for years.  
She unfolds herself and stands, the wooden floorboards squeaking beneath her feet. She pauses before the full-length mirror, shattered at the bottom where Jade had kicked it so many years ago, and holds her arms, tracing over long-faded bruises with her fingertips. She can’t stand it anymore. She’s not sure how she’s even made it to this moment.  
She looks back at her bed, at Jade’s empty one beside it, and knows she can't stay there one more night.

*  
“Artemis, I do not like the decision that you’re making.”  
“Are you telling me not to go?” Artemis Crock throws a pair of shorts into the black duffel bag in front of her.  
“I know better than that, Artemis. I’m just asking you to think about what you’re doing.” Paula folds her hands in her lap, the way she does when she’s trying to stay calm, and Artemis almost hesitates.  
“Mom… I’ve thought about this since you,” She pauses, choosing her words carefully, “since you left. I waited for you to come back.”   
“And now I’m back. So stay with me.” Her mother grabs one of her hands in her own, “Please, Artemis.”   
“You don’t know what it was like, Mom.” Artemis pulls her hand away and turns back to the open bag on the bed, “You were gone, Jade left, and I was stuck here with…” She trails off, zipping the bag. “I’ll visit once a week. Maybe twice. I promise.”  
Paula frowns, but says nothing as her daughter bends down to kiss the top of her head. Artemis grabs her duffel, walks out her bedroom door, through the living room, and out of the apartment, leaving her mother alone in the empty bedroom, next to the broken mirror.  
* * *  
Zatanna wakes up early.  
She never used to do that. Back before her world ended, she woke up closer to noon than to sunrise. But now, when she can still hear Fate whispering in her mind and her world has ceased turning, she sleeps less every night.   
She makes a pot of coffee and pours herself a cup. She sips at it, ignoring precisely how terrible it is. Her father has instilled in her his selective taste for coffee, and the Folger’s Instant crap that Conner buys leaves a sour taste on her tongue. She wonders if she can convince Batman to somehow get them an espresso machine and tries not to focus on how the thought of her father leaves a lump in her throat and a taste more bitter than shitty instant coffee in her mouth.  
Someone walks into the kitchen. She can hear them, feet padding against the tile floor. Zatanna turns slowly, setting her mug of coffee on the counter before doing so. Artemis stands before her, barefooted, with dark circles under her eyes. She moves to a cupboard, removes a mug, and seats herself next to Zatanna at the counter, pouring herself a cup from the pot of coffee before her. Zatanna gives her a moment to sip at the coffee before saying anything.  
“You’re here now, too.” It’s not a question. Artemis looks the same way Zatanna feels-- shell-shocked. Like she’s left a part of her wherever she has been and she’s not sure how she can live without it.  
Artemis nods, and takes another gulp of coffee before frowning, “This tastes like crap.”  
Zatanna snorts, “It’s instant. What we get for letting the aliens get the groceries.”  
The other girl wrinkles her nose and takes another sip, “So, why are you up so early?”  
It’s probably meant to be some kind of conversation starter, but Zatanna can’t help but tense briefly. “I just couldn’t sleep.”  
“Same.” Artemis leaves it at that. “You want some cereal? Pretty sure I saw a box of cornflakes in here yesterday.”  
“If it was here yesterday, it’s gone. Wally went on a kitchen raid.” Zatanna finishes her cup of coffee and places the empty mug in the sink, “We could zeta for some donuts if you want. Maybe some decent coffee. There’s this place in Central City that’s supposed to be pretty good.”  
Artemis looks down at the mug in her hand, then stands and pours the contents into the sink. “Zatanna, I could kiss you right now.”  
*   
The line is short. It helps, of course, that it’s hardly past six and the cafe is barely open. They pay separately-- Artemis gets a jelly donut and a large cup of french roast, and Zatanna orders something covered in rainbow sprinkles and the house blend-- and find a seat near the window.  
“So, what’s up?” Zatanna asks the question nonchalantly, “Like, not that I’m not totally stoked that you’re at the cave now, but…”  
Artemis sighs, “It’s… family stuff. Nothing I can really explain.”  
Zatanna nods, taking a bite of her pastry and swallowing, looking thoughtful, “Okay. I get that.”  
“What about you? How are you dealing with the whole Fate thing?” Zatanna shakes her head, and Artemis silences quickly.  
They sit silently for several moments, Zatanna staring out the window, Artemis’ eyes focusing on the cream-colored cafe walls. The silence is interrupted by Zatanna, whose deameanor changes abruptly. “Uh, Artemis,” the other girl looks up, arching an eyebrow, “don’t look now, but I think that’s Wally.”  
Artemis swivels around in her chair, just managing to catch sight of a mop of red hair and an oversized backpack rounding the corner outside the window.  
“Why do you figure he’s in such a hurry?” Artemis swirls the remains of her donut in her coffee, eyes glued to the window.  
“Knowing Wally, he’s probably late.” Zatanna shakes her head, turning back to her coffee.  
“At 6:48 in the morning?”  
Zatanna grins at her friend, waggling her dark eyebrows, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”  
“That Wally is entitled to his secret identity the same way we are?” Artemis swallows the last bite of her donut, trying to keep her face straight. Zatanna pauses for half a second, looking confused, then laughs as Artemis allows her thinly veiled smile to slip through.  
“Come on, then!” The magician stands, wrapping a hand around Artemis’ wrist and pulling her up from her chair.  
*  
They follow Wally for seven blocks. The air is warm for an April morning, and Artemis peels off her sweatshirt two blocks in. It doesn’t help that, though he may not be moving at super speed, he is navigating the streets at an impressive gait. He makes a few turns, enough that they think that maybe he knows he’s being followed, before finally stopping in front of large brick building.  
“Looks like Wally does. Wanna find out why?” They walk down the long concrete path leading to the school’s front entrance and push open the set of doors Wally disappeared through a few moments earlier.  
Their footsteps echo throughout the empty halls as the step within the building, though the silence is quickly broken by a small, panting boy whose eyes widen as they land on the two girls before him.  
“Are- are you here for mathlete club?”  
“Excuse me?” Zatanna’s eyebrows scrunch together as if she is genuinely offended by what the boy is insinuating.  
“Are you here to participate in mathletics?” The boy smiles a little, and Artemis feels sort of bad for him.  
“Uh-- no. We were just looking for a friend.” Artemis shrugs, as if it is completely normal to look for friends in a high school she does not attend before the school even opens.  
“What friend?” The boy wipes a sweaty palm against his jeans.  
Zatanna’s eyebrows are still scrunched together, and Artemis figures she’s still slightly shocked from being accused of being a mathlete. “Just this guy--Wally-- you probably don’t--”  
“Go figure,” the guy rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically, “West always gets the girls. Sorry, ladies, but you’re going to have to wait until after mathletics is over. Club policy-- no distractions.” The boy walks away without another word, supportive tennis shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor.  
*  
It is not until they are safely in the cave that either formulates a complete response for what they have witnessed. There is some spluttering and smattered laughter on the way to the Zetas, but the whole event is summarized quite neatly by Zatanna upon their arrival into the cave.  
“What the Hell.”   
Artemis nearly chokes on her laughter, “I can’t believe Wally is a Mathlete.”  
“I can’t believe his last name is West.” Zatanna doubles over, wheezing. “Wally West-- What were his parents thinking?!”  
“It’s pretty obvious that they weren’t.” Artemis snorts, catching her breath, as Zatanna unfolds herself.  
There is a moment of silence between the two before Zatanna breaks it, more serious than before. “We shouldn’t have done that, should we.”  
"Yeah, no. We definitely should not have done that." Artemis frowns a little bit. "But at least we learned how completely ridiculous his secret identity is."  
*  
"So you're telling me Wally is a mathlete?" Megan is dangling halfway off her bed, auburn hair brushing the top of her pink shag rug.  
Zatanna, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her, a bottle of black nail polish balancing delicately on her knee, snorts. "Don't you read minds, M'gann? You're telling me you didn't know that?"  
Megan rolls over on to her stomach, "I try to avoid using my powers for meddling in my teammate's personal lives."  
Artemis, seated amongst Megan's many pillows, rolls her eyes.  
"Recently." The Martian amends her sentence, shaking her head. "Honestly, Artemis, you're so dramatic."  
The blonde sighs and gestures to Zatanna, who flicks a hand lazily and levitates the polish over to her friend, who grabs it out of the air and begins applying the polish to her left hand.  
"Really, black for both of you? No sense of individuality?" M’gann holds up her own hands, the nails of which are coated in bubblegum pink.  
“We are individuals together, Megan.” Artemis switches hands, gliding the brush against each nail just as delicately as she had before. “Besides, if I’m gonna break dress code, I might as well do it with school colors. Black and black.” Zatanna side-eyes her, and Artemis shrugs. “I do not attend a particularly creative school.”  
“Where do you even go, Artemis? I thought you might transfer to Happy Harbor now that you live here full-time.” M’gann sits up, blowing mindlessly on her nails in an effort to dry them.  
Artemis hesitates. She’s not sure why she’s so reluctant to share such a trivial part of her secret identity with her friends. Really-- it shouldn’t matter all that much. It’s not like she’s gone to that much trouble in concealing it-- sure, the whole ‘murderous band of assassins for a family’ thing is pretty tightly under wraps, but the school thing seems fairly harmless. “Gotham Academy.” Artemis finds herself supplying the truth, and almost flinches as it slides past her lips.  
“Woah. Did not think you could afford that.” Zatanna’s eyes get wide and she flails her hands through the air, “Not what I meant. It’s just--”  
Artemis laughs and shakes her head, “It’s fine, and I can’t. I’m on a scholarship. I guess I’m sticking around because I might as well. Plus enrollment paperwork is just such a hassle, you know?”  
Zatanna nods enthusiastically, “Oh, I know. When Zatara--” She falters briefly on his name, “It’s harder when--” She pauses again, clamping her mouth shut for a second before starting again, “It’s even harder when to have to forge all the signatures.”  
“Zatanna--” Megan slides down on to the floor next to her friend, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she quickly brushes off.  
“No, no it’s fine. Kind of funny really,” Zatanna laughs bitterly, “imagining Fate coming here to sign some credit transfer request. That would be ridiculous.”  
Artemis joins M’gann and Zatanna on the floor, screwing the lid back on to the jar of polish. She doesn’t say anything, her gaze level and expression measured.  
M’gann looks at a loss for words as Zatanna grimaces, “Oh, come on guys. I’m fine. I promise. Everything’s fine over here in Zatanna-ville. Don’t have to worry about me.”  
+  
She wants someone to take electric paddles and place them against her chest. To shock her heart back into beating, back to reality. She wonders if they might reset her memory, too. Leave her mind blank and unscarred, with no memories of her father or that fucking helmet or the man he became to save her.  
Zatanna feels like an empty house. A house full of nothing but spirits; her mother, her father, Fate. Fate the most. She can hear him every night when she sleeps, when she pauses to catch her breath, in every break in conversation.   
She keeps her earbuds at night. She blasts deafening music that keeps her awake but keeps Fate’s voice at bay, she drinks coffee every morning. She practices.  
_Ytpme gnileef pots. Ytpme gnileef pots._


	2. The Writing on the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay, ice princess. Lemme know when you're done being a frozen bitch."
> 
>  
> 
> (he doesn't get what she's doing there & no one will give him any clues)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter two comin' at ya! anyways, wally west does his immature thing and artemis crock reacts poorly. also, rules are broken.  
> is that abetter summary than the fancy one above?  
> enjoy!  
> xo

_"Most of us can read the writing on the wall, we just assume it's addressed to someone else."_

Tuesday dawns brighter than Monday. The days grow longer and the sun rises earlier and sets later. She wants to think it's some kind of sign, that summer coming somehow symbolizes the sun rising on her life, but as she stares down at the meager assortment of clothes in her still-packed duffel, she doubts it. She kneels on the floor and removes each article of clothing, folding them carefully and placing them in the dresser across from the bed-- her bed.  
When she's done unpacking, she lays back down on the mattress and stares at the ceiling. She figures she feels safe here, not comfortable, but safe. The emptiness of the room is familiar, in a way. It's empty in the same way the room in her mother's apartment has been since the night Jade left. The walls are bare, the wood floor empty of any sort of clutter, the light a little too harsh.  
But it's safe. Her father doesn't know where she is, nor does Jade, and she can rest her bow on top of her dresser without anyone asking questions. It doesn’t need to be home-- it just needs to be safe.  
*

“So how do you like it here?” Canary's eyes track her movements cautiously as Artemis plays with her fingers.  
“It's fine.” Canary nods and jots something down on a clipboard.  
“Any more nightmares? About--”  
“Less. Less than before.” Artemis cuts her off, examining the nails on her right hand, noting the way the cuticles need to be pushed back.  
“And are you feeling at home?”  
The question catches Artemis by surprise. It's not the question she's been expecting, though she's not sure why not. “As much as possible, I guess.”  
“You guess?” Canary raises her eyebrows, “Surely there's something you could do to make this place more homey.”  
Artemis shrugs her shoulders, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “Not really.”  
“Nothing?”  
“I mean,” the archer hesitates, “the room's a little generic, I guess.”  
Canary smiles at her, “Well, there's something we can work on.”  
Artemis shrugs again, unfolding her legs and standing up, “I guess. Can this be over? I need to go to school.”  
Canary laughs, shaking her head, “Of course. Do you need a late note?”  
Artemis pauses as the woman scribbles on a sheet of paper, taking it as she hands it to her. Artemis exits the room without another word.  
*  
Her door is open as he passes by on his way to the kitchen. He tells himself not to stop and look in, that it would be a violation of her well-kept privacy, and then does so anyway.  
He doesn't know what he's supposed to expect. Maybe some family photos, to demonstrate that she's human, maybe a pile of school books, some stray hair ties on the carpet. But there's nothing there. A neatly-made bed, with a generic red comforter and a single white pillow, a dresser with tightly shut drawers he doesn't dare try to jimmy open, a bare wood floor.  
He wonders for a second if it's the wrong room, if, somehow, he has stumbled upon an unused bedroom he has never seen before.  
Then he sees the bow. The one out-of-place object in the room, resting atop the dresser. It's small, one of her back-ups, and the string seems to be broken. It's never occurred to him that she could break a bow string. Sure, he's seen Roy do it before, usually in training sims. The string would snap back and whack him across the cheek, and he'd curse and Wally would laugh.  
It strikes him as sort of disturbing, though, that the only unique part of her in her room is broken. He contemplates the metaphorical resonances over a box of cocoa puffs and a half-gallon of milk, straight from the carton. He has a system-- dump as much cereal as possible into his mouth, pour milk over it, chew, swallow, and contemplate whatever needs contemplating as he grabs another handful of puffs to stuff into his mouth.  
He considers asking Dick why she's there. Why she's not back wherever the hell she came from, why she's moved into a room that hardly seems occupied. He figures Dick won't answer, that he'll give him some bullshit response or maybe some rhetorical question, but it _bothers_ him. In the way he's always figured he's immune to.  
She reminds him of Conner, in weird way. The Conner who crashed on his floor those first few days after Cadmus.  
He's not sure he can put his finger on what it is, exactly, but the thought remains in the corner of his mind as he tucks the box of cereal back into the cupboard, and the empty carton of milk back in the refrigerator.  
*  
“Miss Crock, you are late.” The teacher's arms are crossed over her chest, and she frowns at Artemis from behind her rhinestone-studded glasses.  
“Sorry, ma'am.” Artemis hands the note, now crumpled, to the woman, who unfolds the paper, reads it, and huffs.  
“Of course you were. Tuck in your shirt, Miss Crock.”  
Artemis obeys, taking her seat next to the only freshman in the class. She wonders what, exactly, the note had said as the teacher begins to scribble an equation across the whiteboard.  
“ _Psst-- Miss Crock._ ” The freshman-- a boy with dark hair and an annoyingly familiar voice-- leans over to her, and she sighs.  
“Can I help you, _Richard_?” She hisses, and he grins mischievously.  
“Nothing, nothing.” The boy leans back in his chair and grins.  
“Great.” Artemis focuses her attention to the equation on the board and groans inwardly. She knows exactly zero trigonometry two months and three weeks into the second semester. She drums a pencil against the blank page of her notebook and watches the clock hands tick as the teacher explains the solution in a way that Artemis has long since given up on understanding.  
*  
Robin meets her at the Zeta entrance. “How was school?”  
“It was great, mom.” Artemis sighs. “Really, though. What do you even do on school days?”  
He shrugs, grinning from behind his dark shades. “Home-schooled.”  
Artemis scoffs and steps into the abandoned booth, Robin following shortly behind her.  
_Recognized, Artemis, B07_  
Recognized, Robin, B01  
Artemis walks towards the kitchen, Robin trailing behind her. “So, is Batman a good teacher?”  
“He's alright. A little dry.” His voice has some kind of bitter humor to it, and Artemis finds herself reminded once more of someone she can't place.  
“What, lots of homework?” Artemis grabs an apple from the bowl on the counter and takes a bite, settling herself on a stool. She drops her book bag to the ground beside her.  
“Like you would not believe. Or, maybe you would. Gotham Prep, right?” Robin gestures to her uniform, and she swallows, frowning.  
“Yeah. Sometimes I forget I'm wearing it, honestly.” She places her apple on the counter. “I'm gonna go change. If M'gann or Kaldur get back before I'm done, make sure they don't throw that away.”  
Robin grins, “What, not worried about Conner?”  
“He respects the Rules of Someone Else's Food.” Artemis heads towards the entrance to the hallway leading to her room.  
“Right. Those.” Robin sits down at the stool opposite the counter of the one Artemis has just vacated and sighs.  
“What's wrong, buddy?” Someone slaps him across the back and he freezes for half a second before relaxing.  
“Shouldn't you be at school, Wally?” Dick turns to face his friend, who grins at him.  
“Snow day, man!” He raises his hands, as if it constitutes as some individual triumph.  
“It's April. And according to one Iris Allen, this is the hottest spring on Central City record.”  
“Personal snow day, sorry. Could have been more specific.” The red head frowns. “Honestly, Rob. It's almost like you're not happy to see me.”  
Dick laughs, “No, no. I am. I'm just... thinking.”  
“A dangerous thing to do.” Wally takes the seat opposite Robin and examines the apple before him. “This yours?”  
“Artemis'.”  
“She's here?”  
“Yep.”  
“She look sick?” Wally picks up the apple, looking it over carefully.  
“No? Though I wouldn't--” Robin has no time to finish his warning as Wally opens his mouth and bites down on the apple. “And you did. Okay.”  
Wally chews his mouthful of fruit thoughtfully, “You know Rob, I've been meaning to ask,” he swallows, “what she's doing here.”  
“She's living here.” Robin frowns as Wally takes another massive bite of the apple.  
“No shit. But why?” A bit of juice dribbles down his chin.  
“Why is she living here? Is that what you’re trying to say?” Robin eyes his friend as he nods. “Look, Wally. Even Artemis can have a hard time once in awhile. It’s safe here.”  
It’s more of an answer than Wally’s expecting. He almost wishes Robin hadn’t given it to him-- an answer like that just raises more questions. He can tell that his friend doesn’t want to discuss it anymore, though, and so he sends the apple core soaring through the air, into the stainless steel trash can by the refrigerator.  
“That,” Wally pauses, placing his hands behind his head, “is literally the worst explanation for anything I’ve ever heard. And I had the birds and the bees explained to me by the Flash.”  
“Oh, come on. It can’t have been worse than Batman.”  
“Halfway through the explanation, he vibrated through the floor. Felt too awkward or something. He got trapped in the basement, Rob. I had to explain to Aunt Iris why her husband was cowering in shame in the cellar.”  
“Okay, that sounds worse. Batman just had me watch a VHS.”  
“How is that _bad_?” Wally puts his feet up on the counter, balanced precariously in his chair.  
“Well, for starters, it was on VHS. Totally early nineties. And it was narrated by Batman. Have you heard the dark knight say ‘penis’? Because I have, and it was absolutely traumatizing.”  
Wally opens his mouth, about to formulate some kind of smart-ass reply, before he is slapped upside the head. “Ow! Jesus,” he turns around to face Artemis, dressed in blue jeans and a tank top, “what was that for?”  
“I’m operating under the assumption that you ate my apple.” She sits next to Wally and sighs. “Really, Robin. I expected more from you.”  
“I tried to warn him. I swear I did. He just went right over my head. Not literally, of course, because the apple was in front of me. But--”  
“She gets it, Rob.” Wally rolls his eyes dramatically. “You’re a tattle-tale, you know that, right?”  
“Call it a character flaw, Wally.” Robin stands, adjusting his sunglasses, “Now if you will excuse me, I have some studying to do.”  
“I thought you said you’re home-schooled.” Artemis  
“What, you think I just learned nano-robotics through osmosis?” He chuckles, shaking his head, “Stay whelmed, everybody.”  
After he leaves, the kitchen is quiet for a few moments. Wally breaks the wall of silence with his usual tact.  
“So why are you here?”  
“Because Roy quit. We’ve been through this.” Artemis’ voice is cold. He rolls his eyes.  
“Yeah. Okay, ice princess.” Wally stands, “Lemme know when you’re done being a frozen bitch.”  
+  
He feels bad after he says it. Dick pretty much gives him a warning not to ask and then he goes ahead and pushes it anyways. _Classic West._  
He considers apologizing, briefly. For half a second he hesitates and almost turns back and says something, but his feet don’t listen to his brain and he finds himself on the indoor track, sprinting laps. He’s not even using his powers, at first. Just running, the way Barry has him do when he needs to think.  
His shoes are shit for it, and the air conditioning isn’t on, and soon he is shirtless and barefoot, the soles of his feet slapping the ground. It feels nice-- he wonders if maybe he should try out for track that year. He’s always been a decent runner, even before the powers, but the last few years have made running feel more like a chore than a hobby. He focuses on his breathing as he increases his speed, his legs blurring as the super speed kicks in. He focuses on points in front of him, the way Flash taught him, to keep himself from tripping. His thoughts move at the same pace as his limbs.  
He has a calculus test Tuesday. He should study. There’s all that Cadmus follow-up paperwork he and Rob never finished, an essay due Monday. Things he should get done. He should apologize to Artemis. _Even Artemis can have a hard time once in awhile._  
He stops then, nearly face-planting as he does so. He’s dripping sweat, his heart pounding, but something in him tells him it’s not just from training.  
It’s a small thing really. Sure, he called her a bitch, but it’s not like it’s the first time. Usually she doesn’t hold it against him. She’ll roll her eyes or call him something back and brush it off.  
But that day doesn’t seem to be ‘usually’. There had been nothing but frosty silence in the kitchen when he had left. It’s not like her to not have a fiery comeback.  
+  
“Look, I said I’m sorry, okay?” Wally West pushes a hand through his shocking red hair in exasperation, and glares at the girl across from him, whose face is set in a deeper frown than usual.  
“And I said I didn’t care in the first place.” The coolness in her voice intensifies, and he knows for a fact that she _does_ care and is just being a pain in the ass about it.  
“Okay, but I shouldn’t have said it, anyways.”  
“You think?”  
He raises his hands in both exasperation and victory, “See? I knew it bothered you.” He realizes he has dug himself a deeper hole when she remains quiet. “Look, Artemis--”  
“Team.” Kaldur’s voice, booming from a PA system Wally has been completely oblivious to them owning, interrupts him. “Urgent assignment from Batman. Hanger. Now.”  
She stands, not looking back at him as she leaves in the direction of the ship hanger. Wally follows a few seconds after, brain still trying to work through what exactly has just happened.

+  
When M’gann hears the word ‘urgent’, she imagines something much more intense than a recon mission. Her imagination proves, as always, to be greater than reality. She waits for everyone to suit up before they exit the ship into the blue-black darkness surrounding Arkham.  
She hates Arkham-- the city, the prison. It’s all terrible. She can hear the thoughts of everyone around, and sometimes they’re just too hard to push out. She tries to let them fade to a subtle buzz in the back of her mind as AquaLad begins to speak.  
“I will be brief. Recently, League sources have hinted at a possible infiltration of Arkham from the outside-- the League of Shadows has been largely indicated. The goal here is observance, not interference. This is a partner-based reconnaissance mission,” somewhere behind her, she can feel Zatanna’s mood shift, which M’gann finds odd, “I have taken the liberty of assigning the partners, based off of field and training observation.”  
“So much for brief.” Somewhere to her left, Wally grunts in pain as Artemis’ elbow dig into his side, “Why?!”  
“M’gann and Conner, first team. Zatanna, Robin, and I, second. Artemis and Wally, if you can keep from killing each other, you will be cooperating.”  
“No promises.” Artemis is angry. M’gann can tell, without prying to deep, that it’s not something simple that’s bothering her. She almost considers telling Kaldur that putting the two together is a bad idea, but he’s already diverged into the ground everyone will be covering, and she feels interrupting him would be rude. By the time they split into their groups, M’gann’s head aches. There’s something besides anger pulsing in Artemis’ mind-- the girl is sad, to the point of numbness, and when her hand brushes against M’gann’s arm as she stalks past, Wally following a safe distance behind, the martian can’t help a sharp intake of breath at the flash of residual pain that reaches from her friend’s mind into her own.


	3. Changes (or none at all)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wally and Artemis almost blow a mission.  
> (The 'almost', they feel, is important.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did it! i muscled my way through this chapter! which means plot will happen soon! side note-- i'm sorry if the next few chapters come out a little later in the week than usual. my schedule is about to get a lot busier.   
> anyways, enjoy!!  
> xo

The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

They almost blow the mission. The _almost_ , he feels, is the important part. Kaldur seems to feel very differently.  
“I do not understand,” His voice is calmer than usual, and it hits Wally that he is trying not to scream, “The need the two of you have to create trouble where there is none.”  
Wally almost grins. Kaldur’ahm, the king of understatement.  
“It’s not me,”Artemis butts in, her voice cold, “it’s Wally. He’s the idiot who made all the noise.”  
he’s not thinking of smiling any more-- honestly, he’s sick of it. Sick of her, acting like she’s better than him for being _curious_. “Hey! It’s not like I was the one who--”  
“Enough.” Kaldur holds up a hand, and Wally closes his mouth, scowling. “It does not matter who did what. What matters is that the two of you have proved tonight that you are incapable of working together. Whatever issues you have with each other must be resolved. I have neither the authority nor the desire to remove either of you from the team, but I will mandate the two of you train together until an understanding is reached. I will communicate the decision to both of your mentors.”  
Artemis begins to protest, but Kaldur silences her quickly, “My mind is made. I hope that you can resolve this.”  
He exists the briefing room, leaving Artemis and Wally alone, the first’s eyes dertimedly looking anywhere but at the latter. It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Wally can hear M’gann laughing somewhere deeper in the cave.  
“So,” he breaks the silence, and her eyes flit to his face briefly, “This sucks, huh?”  
Her drawn back shoulders pull forward, and she sighs, “Yeah. I guess it does.”  
“Do you want to talk it out or something?” He can hear the strain in his own voice-- he’s exhausted, his legs numb from running, his stomach distressingly empty.  
“Honestly, Wally?” Her eyes finally focus on his, and he realizes a shade he’s always thought of as black is really the darkest green imaginable, “I just want to go to bed.”

+  
Parting ways is rarely as sweet as it is then. He leaves, the Zeta AI guiding him home, and she is left alone in the cave. She walks to her room slowly, passing M’gann’s closed door and Zatanna’s open one on her way. Z looks up at her from her bed as she passes by and smiles sadly. Artemis nods, but doesn’t stop to talk. she feels she’s done too much talking lately. She’s dug herself holes too deep to get out of, blown a mission--- _almost blown a mission_ , Wally’s voice insists in her mind--and let people she’s not sure she can trust in on parts of her life outside of the team.  
Alright, so she may be overreacting. She stares at the ceiling, head pressed against the cool cotton of her pillow. She knows she can trust Zatanna and M’gann-- hell, she knows she can trust the whole team. Conner, Kaldur, Robin-- even Wally. It’s a rare luxury, being able to trust the people in her life.  
Outside her door, someone shuffles past. _Conner, probably. Or Kaldur_. Ugh, Kaldur. So maybe he hadn’t exactly chewed them out earlier, but she feels guilty all the same. She can’t believe she’s letting Wally West get to her like this.  
Or maybe she can. She’s spent weeks obsessing over her position on the team-- ever since Roy came back, ever since the whole shit show with her family, the last mission she’d blown-- and when Wally comes in and opens his big mouth, she feels like he’s undermining her again. At least, she reflects bitterly, this time, everything’s his fault, too.

+  
Earlier That Night

It goes alright, at first. They don’t say much, simply following each other silently around the perimeter until M’gann links them. Even then, Wally and Artemis remain quiet. She has an arrow notched, her fingers wrapped around the bowstring, and Wally runs ahead every once in awhile to check for possible complications.   
_Nothing._  
She doesn’t respond, and he repeats himself.  
_Nothing._  
Artemis’ link remains quiet.  
_I said, there’s no sign of threat._  
_Oh, I’m sorry. Were you expecting a parade?_  
He’s quiet again after that, putting a bit more distance between him and Artemis. He runs a few laps of the perimeter before stopping next to her.  
_Look, I get that you’re upset with me--_  
“I’m not upset with you.” She says it out loud. “And even if I was, maybe I wouldn’t want the whole team knowing about it.” Her voice is as icy cold as he remembers it.  
Behind them, a branch snaps, and they freeze.  
_You hear that?_  
_No, Wally. I’m clearly deaf. That’s why I can hear you being obnoxious all the time._  
_Artemis, Wally._ Dick’s voice, warning, breaks into their conversation.  
Wally and Artemis both turn towards the noise, instinctively covering the other’s weak side.   
“Hello?” Artemis’ voice is shaking, and Wally nearly forgets that he’s upset with her. Nearly. There is no reply, and Wally gives it a shot.  
“Look, Miss Scared-of-the-Dark over here is armed and cranky, so I’d advise just surrendering.”  
No reply. “You’re a dick, you know that?” Artemis’ voice is raised, and Wally cocks an eyebrow.  
“Woah, did that strike a nerve? You a little scared of the Boogeyman?” She turns to face him, eyes flashing, but before she can reply, a voice behind them breaks up the argument.  
“Well, well, well. Look what the me dragged in.”  
_Cheshire._  
_Cheshire?_ Dick’s voice, again. This time slightly panicked. _How’d she know we were here?_  
_How about you ask Artemis._  
She pulls back on her arrow, tempted to aim it at Wally instead of sister. Jade wins, eventually, but the decision takes half a second, and by then she has her scys pressed against Wally’s throat as he lies on the ground, chest heaving.  
Artemis releases the string and exhales as the arrow flies towards her sister, blasting her backwards as Kid Flash scrambles to his feet.  
_We’ve got company. How long do you need?_  
_We’ve got the info we need. Rendevouz at the ship._  
+  
She awakens to someone knocking on her door. The glowing red numbers on the alarm clock next to her bed read 7:38. “Artemis? Do you want Canary to call you out?” M’gann  
She’s tempted to say yes-- she’s tired, and head hurts like she’s coming down with a cold-- but she’s not sure what she would do with a day to herself in the Cave. “No, no. I’m up.”  
“You sure? It was a long night.”  
Artemis doesn’t respond, pushing herself out of bed and hurriedly pulling on her school uniform, wrinkled from spending a night on the floor. She smooths the skirt against her legs and pulls dark stockings over her feet, carefully adjusting them so the tops are even.  
Artemis looks at herself in the full-length mirror leaning against the dresser. She looks, she notes, like a mess. Her hair is unbrushed and unwashed, pulled back in the same ponytail as the night before, and loose strands stick out of the hair tie. Her left leg is bruised from a fall the night before, and there’s a nick on her calf from shaving that’s only half-covered by the one of the Batman bandaids that Robin finds so hilarious.  
She swipes on some deodorant and brushes her teeth above the sink in the tiny attached bathroom before grabbing her backpack and jogging to the Zetas.  
+  
It’s raining in Central City. Wally watches the drops fall through the east-facing windows of his third period class. It’s slow and persistent rain, the kind that accompanies springtime, and he can’t help but hate it. Wally West loves summer. He has a count-down, actually. If he were to pull his phone out of the front pocket of his bag and type in the passcode, he could check the number of days left until vacation. He knows the answer without looking, though: too many.  
Summer vacation is too far away, Dick’s annoyed with him for last night, his A in chem may be in danger if he doesn’t get his notes done, and there’s the whole Artemis thing to deal with. His life’s a damn fiasco.  
Okay, it’s not a fiasco. But it could certainly be better. He doubts the kid in front of him has to deal with what Wally has to on a regular basis. He puts his head on the desk, groaning internally.  
+  
The day only gets worse-- a B on his calculus test knocks his grade down a full four percent, he manages to make a fool of himself during gym class, and his off period is spent tutoring freshmen in basic physics. By the time he stumbles through the zeta entrance to the Cave, all he wants to do is raid the kitchen and maybe take a nap. His mouth waters at the thought of M’gann maybe having restocked the supply of Cocoa Puffs he’d gone through the day before.  
Fate, it seems, conspires against him. Kaldur is waiting for him, arms crossed, face set in its usual unreadable half-frown. "Artemis is waiting for you in the simulation room." His voice is steady, but the corner of his mouth twitches up, if only slightly, as he continues. "Something tells me she may be unhappy that you are late."


	4. The Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teens will be teens, and Jade experiences "Not-Guilt". Roy has an existential crisis of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me! I'm updating! It's happening! Enjoy.

_“If you play with matches, you are bound to get burned.”_  


“You’re late.” He skids to a halt in front of her, dressed in his dark, generic training clothes. He frowns at her.  


“Can I really be late for something I didn’t know was happening?”  


“Somehow, you managed.” He tries to decide if the tiny upwards quirk of the corner of her mouth is a figment of his imagination. He’s sure it must be, as she has made it clear in the past that she entirely lacks a sense of humor.  


He reaches over, pressing his thumb against the scanner on the training room doors. The metal slid back with a hiss, revealing the huge, empty room. “After you.”  
+  


M’gann is baking cookies. She should, admittedly, be doing homework, but cookies seem, in the moment, the better option. Zatanna wanders into the kitchen and seats herself on the countertop, occasionally stealing chocolate chips from the open bag on the island and tossing them into her mouth, not saying much.  
Robin finds his way to the counter as well, and Zatanna slides over to make room for him. The two watch M’gann determinedly stir together butter and brown sugar in silence for several moments.  


In these moments, M’gann observes them. Sure, most of her energy is focused on the bowl in front of her, but she can’t help but watch her friends. It’s funny, really-- whatever Zatanna and Robin have, whatever weird human label fits that they refuse to apply to it, it reminds her of a dance. An awkward dance, where one refuses to touch the other in fear of anything actually _happening_ , but a dance none-the-less. Even as they sit on the counter and watch her, the tips of their fingers are fractions of an inch apart, palms pressed firmly against the dark granite as if to communicate a complete lack of interest in holding hands that M’gann doesn’t need telepathy to tell is a lie.  


She giggles before she can stop herself. Zatanna slides off the counter and stands before her, hands now firmly on her hips, and mock-glares at the martian. 

“Care to tell us what’s so funny, M’gann?”  


Megan shakes her head, once again trying to refocus herself on the task at hand. She manages for all of three seconds before laughing again. “Nothing, Zatanna.”  


“Oh, _sure_ , M’gann, I’m sure it’s _nothing_.”  


M’gann snickers, then goes back to her cookies, rolling the dough into balls and carefully setting them on the cookie sheets in front of her.  
+  


He chooses the simulation-- she says she doesn’t care, as long as it’s not ‘super weird’, which isn’t hugely helpful, as ‘super weird’ is basically ‘totally normal’ by League standards. He chooses something about a Shadows attack and an urban setting, typing the parameters into the computer quickly before returning to the masking tape ‘safety square’ on the floor.  


Artemis joins him shortly. She’s holding one of the training bows Roy used to use in her right hand, using one finger to fidget with the wrist guard on her inner forearm. For a few seconds, the only noise in the room is the buzz of the sim wiring reconstructing their surroundings.  


“Look--” She begins, right as he wonders if the situation can get any more awkward. “Wally. I’m--I’m sorry.”  


“Artemis--”  


“No. I am. I’ve been-- a frozen bitch, I guess.” He knows she means it, but his own words coming back to him like that feel like a sucker punch to the gut.  


“Okay, well, I’m sorry, too.” And he is. He feels like he should say more-- but the buzzer goes off and the simulation begins.  
+  


Jade Ngyuen feels conflicted. It is the rarest of occurrences-- she has known exactly how she feels about everything since she was seven years old. She does not enjoy the sensation.  


She’s hesitant to call the motivation behind the feeling ‘guilt’, as it’s never exactly been in her repertoire, but she will attest to it being something similar. It is the not-guilt (but something like it), she tells herself, that causes her to do what she does when the Shadows chopper leaves her on top of the skyscraper in Star City.  


It takes her nearly an hour to find a payphone, and another two to find the number she needs through a series of other contacts. By the time the ringing on the other line ends and a voice answers, she’s nearly convinced herself of her commitment to whatever fucked up, end-of-the-world scheme the Shadows are pulling her towards.  


_“Go for Arrow.”_  


“Well, Red,” she purrs into the phone, smiling despite herself, “It’s been a long time since we chatted.”  


_“What do you want, Cheshire? And how’d you get my number?”_  


“What do you say to coffee, Red? Fifteen minutes? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”  
+  


He’s sitting alone at a table, dressed in civvies, completely inconspicuous with the exception of the untamed red hair. She sits across from him, and he slides a cup of tea towards her, frowning.  


“For me? You shouldn’t have.”  


“Cut to the chase. What do you want from me?”  


Jade smiles at him coyly, “I get the feeling you don’t go on a whole lot of dates, do you, Red?”  


His cheeks flush, but his frown deepens. “Cheshire.”  


She holds up a hand. “Jade. You can stop pretending you and the kiddies don’t know my name. And, honestly, can’t a girl enjoy a cup of tea with an old friend just to catch up?”  


“You can’t.” He moves to stand up, and her hand shoots out automatically.  


"Okay. I want something. But not here,” she glances up, towards a security camera in the corner, “You never know who could be watching.”  
+  


“So where, exactly, did you get this ‘incredibly pertinent information’?” Dick does air quotes around the words, and Roy glares at him.  


“A source that wishes to remain anonymous. Now are you going to hear me out or not?”  


“How about ‘or not’.” Artemis, leaning against one of the large monitors in the Cave, glowers at him. Kaldur raises a hand, presumably in warning, and she rolls her eyes but refrains from commenting further.  


Roy keeps his attention on Kaldur, ignoring the blatant hostility. “My source was vague. They just specified a time and a place, no real details about who is behind the planned attack.”  


"And why are you coming to us and not the League? Why not just take care of this yourself?”  


Roy feels his shoulders tighten. He knows exactly why he didn't go to the League, why he was incapable of taking care of this himself: the part of Cheshire’s information he could share with no one, the sleeper agent in their midst, the person he really was and wasn't. “You're capable of handling it. The League has bigger things on their hands.”  


“And how do you know the information is reliable?” Dicks voice cuts through the sluggish movement of his thoughts. He thinks of Jade’s hand on his wrist, her eyes pleading to him believe her as her voice tells him what could very well be an elaborate lie.  


“I don’t.” He turns towards the direction of the Zeta tubes, and as they activate, the automated voice calling him _Red Arrow_ , he thinks how fitting it is that he didn't stay _Speedy._  
+  


The man who has lived as Roy Harper for the last several years takes the long way home. ‘Home’ isn’t really that-- it’s an apartment six blocks north of Star Labs with a pull-out couch and a fridge full of takeout. Red Arrow is not nearly as affluent as his green counterpart.  
He passes dirty windows, bus stations surrounded by bullet-proof glass, and sees his reflection, a face stolen from a boy he has never met  
He trudges up four flight of stairs, down a hallway, and slides the key into the door, twisting the knob and swinging it open. He flips on the light switch and then freezes in the doorway, squinting at his couch.  


His eyesight has been perfect for the entirety of his life. He can spot an ant on the sidewalk twenty feet away from him, an in-progress robbery from a rooftop a mile away. However, he is nearly convinced that his eyes are beginning to fail him when he sees her.  


If he could choose one word to describe Cheshire, it would be something along the lines of ‘unpredictable’ or ‘determined’. Given the situation, though, his first thoughts were _‘on my couch’._  


She smirks at him, and Roy feels the tips of his ears grow warm. “Did you think we were done yet, Red?”  


“Didn’t think I’d get that lucky.” He closes the door behind him, not breaking eye contact with Cheshire as he does so.  


“You can get as lucky as you want.” Her retort causes the warmth in his ears to spread to his cheeks, but he keeps his face straight.  


“I gave the team the lead.” Her face falls, and he can swear he sees something resembling panic in her eyes. The look is gone in half a second, though, and the coy smile returns.  


“You’re not quitting on me, are you, Red?” She stands, gracefully, and approaches him, her eyes narrowing a little.  


“I’m not who you need for this, Cheshire. You need the real Roy Harper. I’m not him.” Roy maneuvers past her, opening the fridge mechanically. “And I should ask you how you know where I live.”  


“I’ve played a role in keeping tabs on you. As long as you’re in there, I’d like a glass of water.” When he turns towards her, she’s back on the couch, feet tucked underneath her. Roy notes she is still in her civvies from earlier and appears to be unarmed, but he remains on guard all the same.  


“Water?”  


“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to say ‘please’, didn’t I?” He decides, after some deliberation, that she is serious, and grabs two bottles of water from the top shelf.  


He sits down next to her, handing her the bottle. “Why are you here, Jade?”  


“I’ve told you: I need your help. And I think you may need mine.” She takes a sip of water, swallows, and continues. “As of this moment, I’ve betrayed the Shadows. That makes me a target. And now that you know who you are, Roy,” she gives him a pointed look, “so are you. We can protect each other. I can make sure you are never the weapon they want you to be, and you can make sure they don’t kill me.”  


“I’m not Roy Harper.” It’s all he can manage.  


“You’re one Roy Harper. I can help you find the other.” It’s hardly an offer he can refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know, it's slow going, but things really pick up next chapter. Look forward to Roy and Jade's weird sexual tension and lots of explosions. (What's that? 'What about Wally and Artemis?' Them too. The plot is thickening, guys. Be patient!)  
> Anyways, hopefully the next updates will come with less of a hiatus, but my schedule's pretty crazy. Definitely within the next two weeks.


	5. The Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy suffers an identity crisis, Jade couch surfs, and Artemis can't catch a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how i said the hiatuses would be shorter and then i disappeared for, like, eight months? i'm gonna go with 'life happens' (i graduated, got a job, and then started college. it got in the way and i'm sorry.) anyways, here's a new chapter! please enjoy it <3 <3 <3

Roy spends the first few days pretending she's not there. It will be, he figures, easier that way. Easier to pretend that she is not herself, the way he has been pretending that he is not himself, the clone of someone he has never truly met but whose memories race through his mind like they are his own.  
It is not easy for long. Jade is not someone easily ignored. She takes up space, despite her small size. Everywhere he turns, she's watching him, with narrowed eyes, alternating between a coy smile and a deep frown.   
He is not sure why she decided to move in with him. Roy never made the offer, but that does not detract from the fact that there is an overnight bag on the three legged coffee table and a pillow on the couch. He doesn't like it, but a gnawing feeling within him tells him that she is the only way to find the real Roy Harper, so he doesn't say anything.   
It takes her awhile to get the first lead. She's been living with him almost two weeks, trailing him on his nightly patrols of the city and frowning disapprovingly at his constant stream of take-out meals. By the time she finally finds the lead, they're almost out of bottled water and there's a head of lettuce in the fridge.  
It's a Monday night. The two have just come back from a particularly eventful patrol, one he hardly even expected her to participate in, and Roy is seated on his bed waiting for Jade to finish in the shower. His hands are folded in his lap, his head lowered between his knees, his mind elsewhere: with a boy he's never met, whose life he is living. His uniform top is somewhere on the floor, the sweat still cooling against his skin, his nails digging into the thin skin on the back of his hands.  
He does not hear Cheshire enter, and starts a little when she begins to speak.  
“My, my. Shirtless is a good look on you, Red.”  
He raises his head, cheeks burning despite the conflict within his mind. He manages, however, to keep a straight face. “What do you need, Jade.”  
“What, no ‘thank you’? So hard to pay a compliment these days.” She takes a seat next to him on the bed. Her damp hair, hanging loose around her shoulders, tickles his arm. “I thought you might be interested in this.”  
She hands him a sealed envelope, and he hesitates. “This isn’t Anthrax or anything, is it? Some elaborate scheme to kill me?”  
“Was that an attempt at humor?”  
“No.” He opens the envelope carefully, as if it's an explosive that could detonate at any moment. Jade watches him with an expression somewhere between apathy and amusement. He shakes the envelope and several photos inside fall into his lap. He gingerly picks one up, examining the glossy image in the dim light.  
“How long have you had these?” His voice lacks its typical hardness, cracking a little on the last syllable.  
“Long enough for me to be sure you wouldn’t hand me into the Justice League.” Jade takes the photo from his hands and squints at it. “Do you know who that is?”  
It’s difficult to even recognize the image is even of a person. He can make out a thick mop of red hair, a jawline like his own, a panel of frosted glass. It’s not much to go off of, but he can guess. “That’s him?” His hands are shaking, the glossy picture trembling in his fingers.  
“That’s him, Red.” Jade places her left hand over his right, stabilizing it. It feels to Roy like an oddly sincere gesture, something he would have considered more greatly if his mind were not fixated on the boy in the picture, the boy whose life he had stolen.  
“Do you--” his voice cracks a little, “do you know where he is?”  
She removes her hand from his, standing, so that she is facing him head-on. “Not yet, Red. But we will.”  
He feels a lump in his throat, but keeps the straight face going. “You better, Chesire. You have a lot more riding on this than I do.”  
Her face falls, momentarily, then picks back up, her smirk tight at the edges. “You can certainly ride more, if you like.”

+

Wally hates gunfire. He hates bullets, hates the sound they make as they shatter the sound barrier, hates what it means when they hit someone. _Faster than a speeding bullet._ Man, he wishes.  
He can’t make himself hates guns, though. He appreciates them too much. He doesn’t appreciate their use, but he appreciates the course of scientific evolution that has led to them. Gunpowder-- gunpowder, he figures, it what he actually appreciates-- is the ultimate symbol of man’s battle to control the elements. As a scientifically-minded person, he has to admire it.  
He’s thinking all this as bullets whiz past him. The sound is deafening-- metal on concrete, the thunder of gunpowder being ignited, the incessant clack-clack of automatic weapons firing over and over again.  
He’s crouched behind a solid metal barrel that has a large yellow and black label in a language he can’t read. Another bullet goes over his head, and he winces.  
_What’s the plan here? Is KF in yet?_ Dick sounds impatient, and Wally can’t really blame him. The lead is time sensitive-- if Roy’s source is right, the package (whatever that ‘package’ is) would be out of the building and in the hands of the Shadows in just fifteen minutes. ‘The plan’ had been, up until a few minutes beforehand, to have Wally do recon. That plan is more or less ruined by Wally’s being pinned down by gunfire. Even he-- the World’s Fastest Teenager-- cannot outrun a machine gun..  
_Problem on that front, Rob: They’ve got guns. Like, a lot of them. I’m still stuck on the ground level._  
He can almost feel Artemis’ eye roll through the link. _Don’t worry, Kid Idiot. Help is on the way. Robin--you still have the blueprints? I’m gonna need an air vent._  
+  
They work well together. (It’s probably all the extra training rounds Kaldur’s been forcing them through, but Wally’s not about to admit to that.) He can’t see her, but the tell-tale signs of Artemis’ presence are there: an arrow arcs through the air from somewhere above him, hits the cement flooring in front of a baddy, and explodes into a cloud of thick gray smoke. The bullets stop flying as the room erupts in a chorus of coughs, the smoke settling heavily in the baddies’ lungs.  
Wally immediately holds his breath and darts forward, going off of memory to avoid obstacles, his quick feet leaving empty lines in the smoke. It’s a maneuver they’ve been practicing, after Diana sits them down in group therapy and asks them about their fears and he responds ‘getting shot’ without even thinking about it. Artemis never gives hers.  
He dodges what he is fairly sure is a concrete wall that would hurt to crash into even if he weren’t going at super-speed and through the open doorway, the smoke clearing as he sprints up a flight of stairs, his arms and legs a barely perceptible blur. Behind him, the gunfire resumes, and he finds himself hoping Artemis has enough arrows.  
+  
Dick meets him on the top floor. He comes through the air vents-- a plan Wally wishes Artemis had thought of before he’d been shot at-- and his black hair is covered in a fine layer of dust, a few cobwebs clinging to his cape. Wally approaches him at top speed, narrowly avoiding a collision as he stops in front of his friend, slipping a little across the linoleum floor.  
“You’ve got a little--” Wally gestures to Robin’s hair, and he brushes the dust off impatiently. From somewhere beneath them, Wally can hear a tinny alarm going off. “Should we be worried about that?”  
“The team will deal with it. What we really need to worry about is the package. Roy’s source says that if the Shadows get a hold of it, the results will be catastrophic.”  
Wally nods, frowning. “Well that’s great, because this building is like thirty stories tall and a package could be just about anywhere. Or anything.”  
+  
Artemis is out of arrows. She’s also starting to hate air vents. She is halfway between deciding if she actually hates air vents enough to drop out the one she’s currently in and risk getting shot when she-- well, when she gets shot.   
It doesn’t hurt like she expects it too. It’s like a strange, out of body experience. She can see it happening-- there’s a blonde girl, in a mask, cradling a bow, hunched in the darkness of the air vent. There’s a _bang!_ and a hot, searing sensation and the girl’s face crumples in pain beneath the mask. She’s pulled back to herself and it is then that she feels the pain-- a half-second delay between contact and realization that makes her wonder if maybe something’s actually wrong besides the slug imbedded in her thigh.  
_Fuck!_ She’s not sure if she says it, or thinks it, or screams it, but the team picks up on her exclamation.  
_Artemis?_ Zatanna sounds a little panicked. Artemis is sure that she herself sounds _very_ panicked.  
_Nothing super serious, Z. I just got a little shot._ Even thinking it hurts. It feels like all the blood in her brain is receding to her thigh.  
_You got SHOT? Where?!_ Robin interrupts whatever Zatanna’s response is  
_Leg._ She keeps it brief, breathing through her nose in an effort to control the pain..  
_Where are you?_ Kaldur sounds surprisingly calm. Artemis would be angry with it if not for the crippling pain and hot blood soaking through her leggings.  
_Air vent. Basement. Area below me is a no-go though._ She can hear another gun go off. She wonders if they know that they’ve managed to hit her. She pulls herself a little further into the air duct, hoping for more protection, before pressing her palms against the wound, trying to apply even pressure to slow the bleeding.  
_Wally will be there as fast as he can._  
_Which is pretty fast, by the way._ Artemis, despite the pain in her thigh, is tempted to roll her eyes. She keeps her focus on staunching the blood flow.  
It probably only takes thirty seconds for Wally to get to her, but it seems like forever. She’s discovering she doesn’t like blood very much-- at least not her own blood. It’s starting to stick, too, which she hopes is a sign of clotting, but she’s not sure, since her head feels too foggy to think back to what Arrow’s taught her about first aid, or even what advice her father’s given her.  
She blacks out right as he shows up-- she can feel his hands press over her thigh, realizing that her’s must have slipped off, hears him in her mind, saying something about evac-- then darkness. Cool, still darkness punctuated only by the flare of pain somewhere far beneath her.


	6. The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ngyuen family hangs out, Wally has a snack, and Artemis returns to the Cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was gonna update, and here I am, doing it. The main plotline is coming soon, people! I apologize for the infrequent updates (which, if I'm being honest, will continue to be infrequent). I have been incredibly busy with university and trying to get into nursing school (fingers crossed!). I know that's wayyyyy more than you really wanted to know, but live with it anyway. And now onto the chapter! I'm a little (read: very) rusty and appreciate any feedback you can give. Enjoy!

She awakens to bright lights, mind fuzzy. She tries to remember what happened. Someone got shot, she knows that. She thinks it might have been her, but she's also fairly sure that she would be in much more pain had she been shot.  
She's not in any real pain. There's a cold sensation in her arm that trickles through the rest of her body, blurring whatever thoughts she has so that they, too, are just cool liquid drifting through her veins.  
“Artemis.” It takes a second for her to wrap her mind around that name. _Artemis_ feels familiar. A name she’s heard before.  
She realizes it's her's. Her name. She pulls her eyes towards the source of the sound, and finds two pairs of eyes watching her, similar in shape and shade, set into faces identical in features but not in age. Her mother-- and her sister. Paula and Jade.  
“Mom?” When she opens her mouth, Artemis remembers. Remembers and realizes-- that the cold in her veins are painkillers, that she's in a hospital, that she's been stupid enough to get herself shot.  
Paula's eyes tear up, and she throws her arms around her daughter's shoulders. “I thought I was going to lose you.”  
Jade says nothing, and Artemis tries not to look at her. Jade's presence is, in a sense, the elephant in the room, in some way the unspoken reason why Artemis is there, loaded with morphine.  
“What happened? I mean, after--”  
Paula stays quiet, still clutching her youngest daughter like she may still leave her yet, but Jade finally speaks. “They brought you to Green Arrow, who brought you here. Told them you were the victim of a mugging. Then the doctors did some fancy operation that Arrow swears up and down the League will pay for, and called Mom.”  
“And you're here because?” Whatever the doctors have Artemis on isn't enough to curb her hostility towards her sister. Paula removes herself from her, rolling back in her chair, as if repulsed by the tension between her daughters.  
“I was in the neighborhood. That, and Mom thought you were going to die and thought doing so surrounded by family members would be how you wanted to go.”  
Artemis' chest seizes in momentary panic. “Does that mean--”  
“No.” Jade keeps it short, and Artemis breathes a sigh of relief. “And now that I know you're alive, I need to get Mom home. It's a long way back to Gotham.”  
Jade opens the door to the room, and holds it open for Paula, who looks back at Artemis briefly before leaving, the door shutting behind her. Artemis lets her head fall back on the pillows, and realizes that her leg is beginning to ache.

+  
“You're back early.” Roy's sitting on the couch, staring at the TV. Jade can't tell what he's watching, as the volume's all the way down, but it seems to worry him. There’s a half-packed duffle on the coffee table, two passports thrown on top.  
“The gym's closed.” He glances over at her, and she can tell he knows it's a lie.  
“No it's not.” She decides it's not worth arguing. “I had a family thing.” His eyes narrow at her, and she backpedals a little. “Not _that_ family. My mother called.”  
He seems to consider that for a minute before slouching back against the couch. “What a coincidence. Green Arrow called.”  
“Did he?” Jade moves towards the fridge, keeping her expression neutral.  
“Yeah. He did.” She can't tell if he's upset or not, but she's suddenly concerned about her back being towards him, and turns around, pressing her shoulder blades against the refrigerator instead. Roy's eyes are no longer on the television, but rather trained on Jade. “That lead you gave me? About the laboratory heist?”  
“What about it?”  
“The team took it, and it went wrong. Artemis was shot.”  
“Which one's that? The blonde?” Roy glares at her, and she shakes her head. “Pity. I liked her spunk.”  
“She lived, Jade.” His voice borders on exasperation, and she stifles a smile.  
“Oh, good.” She moves towards the couch, settling next to him. “Did he say anything else?”  
“Why didn't you warn me? About the numbers they'd have?” He's still looking at her, but Jade focuses her eyes on the television set, on which Gilbert Godfried gestures wildly at an image of Superman.  
“I didn't know.” It's the truth, sort of. She hadn't known-- she'd had a feeling, but she hadn't known. She had hoped he would give it to the League, let the big guns handle it. He hadn't, instead giving it to her sister's team. And the Artemis had gotten shot.  
She'll be fine-- the doctors had assured Jade and her mother several times that there would be no long-term physical effects other than scarring—but it doesn't help Jade's guilt much.  
Roy doesn't press it anymore, turning back to face the set. “Have you seen this? It's ridiculous.” He turns up the volume, and Jade lets herself relax.  
+  
Wally's starving. He's always starving, but today is different. He literally feels like if he does not eat that very second, he may very well die. When he tells Black Canary this, she hands him a granola bar that does _literally nothing_ to fill him up and just keeps doing her 'therapy' thing. It's ridiculous. Wallace West does not need therapy. He needs a snack.  
It doesn't help that therapy is boring, either. It’s the same questions every time: “How are you _feeling_?” “How is your home life?” “How are you reacting to ______?”. It seems that the blank changes every time, but the intonation never does, somehow maternal and clinical at the same time.  
Today, the question is “How are you reacting to a teammate being shot in the field?”. He hasn't responded yet. It’s not a question he’s sure he can answer; How Does He Feel? He’s not sure how he can feel about it.  
He’d been the one to carry her out of the vents, to wrap his arms under her armpits and drag her too-still body through the tiny space _slowly_ , because it was the only way to move, while knowing that every second counted. He can’t stop thinking about how pale she’d looked in the darkness, the way her blood had stayed under his fingernails through shower after shower and handwashing after handwashing, how his palms hadn’t done even close to enough to stop the bleeding. How it was his fault that she’d been in the line of fire in the first place.  
“I feel fine.” It’s like a reflex. He is fine. None of what goes on in his head matters because physically he is fine. He has not been shot. He is not the one in some hospital loaded with painkillers with an unsure future. Wally West is perfectly fine. Artemis Crock is not.  
“Wally, you know everything said here is confidential.” He doesn’t speak, and Canary gives him several minutes before saying anything else. “Next week, maybe.”  
He nods, standing up, “Thanks.”  
She makes some noise of affirmation, and he exits her makeshift office, passing Conner, who enters through the door he’s just closed.  
+  
Ollie checks her out of the hospital. He shows up in civvies, helps her into the hospital wheelchair, and trails just a few inches behind the nurse who wheels her into the elevator, past the front desk, and into the parking lot. They don't say much, but as they approach the steps to the private jet, he turns to her, gently setting his hands on her shoulders.  
“I'm glad you're okay, kiddo.” _Kiddo?_ “And honestly, I'm proud of you.”  
It takes her a moment to formulate a response. She's not sure how long she's been waiting for those exact words to come out of Green Arrow’s mouth, but she realizes, as she gets them, that has she known getting shot was all it took to hear them, she would've walked into the crossfire a long time ago. “Thanks.” She manages to keep her voice at its usual dry tone.  
She is taken by surprise when he hugs her. It's warm, almost like a bear hug, and she can't really manage to free her arms from either the crutches nor him to manage a hug back. She's not sure she'd have been sure _how_ to. No one’s ever hugged her like that-- certainly not her father. “Have a safe flight, Artemis. Let me know when you get back to the cave.”  
+

“Artemis!” Megan throws her arms around her teammate, nearly knocking the crutches out from under her armpits. “How are you? We missed you!”  
Artemis, taken by surprise, freezes for a moment before returning the hug. “I’m okay. I missed you too, M’gann.”  
The martian lets go, beaming at her friend, before spinning around abruptly, “I should let everyone else know that you’re here! They’ll be so happy to see you!” She’s gone before Artemis can reply.  
She’s left alone. Artemis leans forward on her crutches and swings herself onto the nearest chair before allowing the crutches to clatter to the floor. She has to hold her leg at an awkward angle-- there’s a dull throb when it’s not bent and a shooting pain when it is, and there’s something about the prescription pain meds Ollie left her with that _terrifies_ her.  
A few minutes of silence pass. She finds herself examining the Cave half expecting something to be differrent, to have changed since she left. It has, it seems, remained the same. There’s a half eaten box of cereal on the counter, skid marks on the floor, the quiet _drip, drip_ of water falling from stalactites to the floor. The sound reverberates through her head. It makes her leg ache. She readjusts her position on the chair.  
“You’re back.” Wally’s voice appears from nowhere, connected to a vibrating body a half second after she hears it. She tenses for a moment before relaxing.  
“Yeah, uh, about that--” she pauses, stumbling a little over her words, “Thanks. For saving my life, I mean." She expects a cocky response. It would be perfectly within his nature--his rights even--to give her a wink and a slick _you're welcome_. He doesn't match her expectations. Instead, his gaze holds on her face, expression unreadable, and he is silent for a few seconds before responding.  
"You would've done the same for me." It's quieter than she's used to.  
"I know. But that doesn't mean I ever thought I would have to." She finds that her pitch matches his. It as if, within that giant cave, monitored by a million League cameras and undoubtedly the eyes of their teammates, they are having some kind of private, quiet moment.  
He steps closer to her. She can feel herself suck in her breath and hopes he can't hear the frantic beat of her heart against her rib cage. She's not sure why it's pounding like that-- probably an adverse reaction to whatever is still in her veins from the hospital IV drip. "Seriously, Artemis, I'm glad you're okay." She wonders if maybe it had scared him. If she has genuinely managed to frighten Wally West. She has certainly managed to scare herself. "Now come on, everyone's gonna want to, like, hug you or something. I'm sure you'll prefer to be standing."  
He gathers her crutches and helps her up, so that by the time M'gann re-enters, holding Conner’s hand, followed by Zatanna, Dick, and Kaldur, she is upright and balanced expertly. Artemis can't help but notice how Wally stays close to her. She realizes that the look on his face is concern. It's something that should bother her, would usually piss her off-- Artemis Crock does not need some idiot redhead fussing over her like a mother hen, but in that moment she finds it uncharacteristically comforting.  
Conner shakes her hand and smiles, but doesn't say much else. Artemis appreciated the quiet, in a way  
Zatanna embraces her-- more gingerly than Megan had, careful not to throw off her friend's balance, but with equal enthusiasm. "It's been absolutely _insane_ without you here, girl." Artemis can't help but grin-- she can imagine Zatanna there, alone, with only the others for company. .  
Dick hugs her, too. It's more awkward than Z's had been, and brief, but when he pulls away, he's smiling behind his sunglasses. "Glad you're okay. You had KF worried." Artemis avoids looking at Kid Flash, the tips of whose ears have turned a dark pink.  
"She had all of us worried," Kaldur steps forward, and though he maintains his usual serious demeanor, his voice sounds happy, "It is good to have you back, Artemis."  
"It's good to be back, Kaldur."


End file.
